The path ended.
Not in cliffs, not in trees, not even in distance—but in stillness.
The forest, once shifting and breathing around them, grew utterly still. No leaves rustled. No birds flew. Even the silver-glowing canopy above had dulled, as though it, too, had gone quiet in anticipation.
At the end of the path was a circle of stones—twelve in all, arranged with uncanny precision around a hollow depression in the earth. The soil there was black, not from rot, but from age. Whatever had grown there once had long since withered away.
In the center of the circle was a single stone altar. Upon it sat the seed Argolaith had taken from the memory pool.
But the seed was no longer dormant.
It pulsed with a deep inner light—slow, steady, breathing.
Argolaith stopped just short of the ring.
Thae'Zirak exhaled through his nose. "This is it."
Kaelred frowned. "I was hoping for more… structure. Maybe some creepy tower, or a glowing cave."
